The Chalice of Immortality
by RomantikVampyre
Summary: Original Story. All characters copywritten by RomantikVampyre.


**Chapter One**

Amethyst walked outside into the balmy New Orleans air, so much more different than the icy, wintery air of her home country, France. She was only in America for two months, and she hated it already. She could not wait to find Him. It had been a year since she had found out that her Lover, the one who had turned her into a Vampire, was in New Orleans. She heard the rumors; that he was after that Blood Traitor, Enigma, in order to obtain the Chalice of Immortality, The Red Chalice. She had only heard of the name, but never knew what it was, or why he had wanted it as bad as he did.

She pulled her curly dyed red hair up into a bun, her beautiful caramel skin standing in contrast with the white stucco house behind her. She smiled a little, the tips of her ivory fangs showing for a moment, then slipping back into her mouth quickly. If anyone had been walking past, they would have that it was an illusion, a trick of the pale moon light. She walked the three blocks to the library and went into the Mythology section. The long, deserted corriders scared her and the illumination of the overhead lights blinded her and made her cringe. She put the hood of her wool sweater up and gracefully glided to the section that was labeled on the miniscule card that the librarian gave to her when she asked. A call card, the lady said it was called.

She found the book exactly where the card said it would be and she pulled the large, tattered leather-bound book off the shelf and brought it to an abandoned table on the far end of the large, bright library and sat down. The book in question was written in French, for which Amethyst was grateful for since her English was very poor. She flipped through the dust covered, decaying book and stopped at a page. The first thing she saw at the top of the worn page was a detailed, beautiful drawing of a chalice; the intricate designs on the chalice were breathtaking and, if Amethyst remembered correctly, were from Romania, dating back to the time of Vlad the Impaler. She looked at the drawing, deeply enthralled with the beauty of it, so captivated, in fact, that she did not sense the twenty-two-year-old Human sit next to her, until he touched her shoulder. She jumped as if burned and got out of the seat with Inhuman speed.

"Shit," the Human said, "I'm so sorry. It's just," he paused, took a deep breath, and continued. "I'm looking for the same thing that you are." His voice was deep, sexy. His grey eyes were bright with an unnatural light.

Amethyst looked up at him, not meeting him in the eye, as per custom in the century and country in which she was raised in. After all these years, she still had not changed her ways from the docile, reserved, sophisticated woman she was brought up to be. She caught his eye and blushed, the pink tint covering her cheek beautifully. She looked away from the Human's intoxicating gaze. Even as she tried to concentrate on the tattered book that she was reading, she could feel his eyes burning into her, silently looking over her fully covered body.

Cyan smirked, his stormy grey eyes taking in her red hair, almond shaped green eyes, toffee skin free of blemishes, the faint traces of thin blue veins caressing the parts of her body that were not covered. His eyes stopped right above her breasts. He looked her in the eyes again and she blushed so fiercely, Cyan could feel the heat emanate from her. He held her gaze for a while, and then she dropped her gaze and looked at her lap. Cyan knew, deep down inside of himself, that she was not Human, and, in some perverse way, it attracted him like a moth to a flame.

"I'm Cyan," he said, running a hand through his spiked black hair. "I'm a Human, but I'm, uh," he took another deep breath and looked down. He did not want this to come out wrong or for her to think he was implying something sexual. "I'm seeking a Vampire," he finally said, wanting to smash his head into the thick library's brick wall until he was in a coma, or maybe even dead. But, if he did die, or was incapacitated in some other way, how would he find that Vampire , the one who, for five years, had been the sole purpose for Cyan's existence.

"I'm Amethyst," she said, the thick French accent very unusual, captivating Cyan once again, distracting him from his own thoughts. "I am looking for another Vampire, too. Does your Vampire mean something to you?"

He nodded slowly. The Vampire did mean a lot to him, more than life. He knew that the Vampire was still alive, and he only knew, only remembered, the mesmerizing aqua eyes. The soft, silky touch of the Vampire came back to him, invading his mind. He closed eyes and savored the feeling. It was such a realistic memory of what had happened that night five years ago in Saint Louis that he felt the Vampire's dark presence, as if he was there with him.

The female next to him stiffened suddenly, as if sensing a presence that he could not. Cyan opened his eyes and watched Amethyst get up quickly and grab the ancient book. The Human's heart went into overdrive as he realized what the presence was. Amethyst took his hand and led him to the exit. Once they got out, he tried to keep up with her but when he stopped, she was already gone.

Lullaby let out a low growl of frustration and anger for making even a wisp of his presence known. He knew that he had scared that little bitch, Amethyst, and in doing so, frightened Cyan. As he watched them escape from him, he hissed; his fangs drastically lengthening to the size of tiger fangs. He walked out of the already abandoned building quietly and unnoticed, smirking proudly. He did not even have to erase any memories tonight.

_It would have been better if I hadn't scared away the Human_, he thought to himself.

He looked around and dematerialized. When he appeared, he was in a seemingly desolate warehouse. He looked around the eerie emptiness and then caught the scent of other Immortals. He stiffened and willed his eyes to change into cat-like slits. He looked around, finding a black aura. Right next to the black aura, he saw an unusual white aura and hissed quietly. There was no way in Hell that something like That was in his warehouse.

He willed his mind, and body, to relax. His eyes turned ivory as he concentrated. Both of the Immortals were male. The powerful pulsing black aura was a Vampire; one of the Ancients. Lullaby saw, in the aura, the regalness of a king. The pure, innocent white aura that made him sick to his stomach was an Angel. He sensed that the Angel's power had not developed yet, making him weak.

Lullaby smirked and his ivory cat-like eyes transformed back to the normal aqua color. He walked around the corner and hid in the shadows using his unique abilities to blend in with the shadows; shifting into a shadow. He saw the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, winged Angel sitting on a wooden crate, scared, nervously glancing at the Elder in front of him. The Ancient Vampire was taller than Lullaby by around three inches, putting him at around six-foot-eight. His chestnut brown hair reached the beginning of his unbuttoned white lace shirt, his dark brown eyes gazing at the Angel with a confused look, like he did not know what to do with the Angel. Lullaby knew what he would have done if he had acquired such a unique prize. He licked his lips as he thought about what that forbidden fantasy would be like, but he knew he could not kill the Angel now. It would be way too easy for his liking.

Dusk moved toward the Angel slowly, like a tiger stalking its prey. He could smell the fear radiating around him, making him hesitate a little. The Angel's pale blue eyes were wide. He looked more pure than he already was. Dusk curiously, gently, touched the tip of the wing, causing the other male to jump.

"My name is Dusk," the Vampire said, watching the younger one curiously.

"Halo," came the quiet reply.

Dusk smiled at Halo, his fangs showing. Dusk sensed Lullaby then and his eyes scanned the darkness, finding him skillfully. He stood up from his crouched position swiftly and walked into the shadows gracefully, as if moving in slow motion. He laughed. The laughter was sensual, like being caressed with silk.

"Lullaby," he purred seductively.

"I thought you died," Lullaby whispered. "That Blood Traitor killed you." He came out of the shadows, making Lullaby whimper in fear.

Dusk picked Lullaby up by his throat, his talon-like claws digging into the younger Vampire's jugular. "I am not going to kill you," he growled. "I want you to alive just for the purpose that you will be prove that the Son of the Impaler is alive." He dug his nails in deeper, making Lullaby whimper in pain. Blood trickled down his pale skin; the combination of crimson and white sadistically beautiful to Dusk. He dropped the other male to the ground and went back into the dim light of the warehouse.

Lullaby lay still, seemingly broken, gasping for breath. Halo watched, appalled at the grotesque scene that had happened in front of him. Dusk moved toward the Angel and he backed away, horrified. Dusk continued backing Halo up until he was trapped against the wall like a rat trying to escape a hungry cat. He was unable to move. There was no place to run, nowhere to hide. Dusk gently touched Halo's cheek, the skin was so smooth and seemed so fragile, like a porcelain doll. Halo shivered in fear and pressed up against the wall more, as if hoping he would somehow trigger a trap door to open.

"Don't be scared," Dusk said, looking into Halo's wide, pure blue eyes. "I'm going to help you, Angel."

Halo nodded, then noticed that the other Vampire, Lullaby, had vanished. He closed his eyes to try and calm himself down. When he opened his eyes again, his captor was facing away from him, taking off his shirt. Halo looked at the Vampire's muscular back and gasped. Scars that looked as if they had been the product of acid covered his back. The mottled flesh sickeningly reminding Halo of melting candle wax. At the sound of Halo's gasp, Dusk turned around and grinned in an animalistic way.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Dusk hissed darkly. "I did it myself, as a punishment. You see, I had failed my father's last wish. I let It get stolen. I knew my father would have been very disappointed if he was alive, so I punished myself in order to redeem my purity." The look in his eyes was what scared Halo more than anything else. It was not normal. It was not even sane.

"What did the Blood Traitor take?" Halo asked nervously, yet soothingly, hoping that the more he pacified and appeased the Vampire, the more of a chance he would have to live.

"The Chalice of Immortality," Dusk replied. "My father, The Impaler, left it to me when he died."

"The Impaler?" Halo asked, looking at him quizzically. "Do you mean to tell me that your father is Vlad the Impaler?"

Dusk nodded. Halo's eyes widened. Dusk watched, loving the innocence that exuded from Halo; the purity, the naïvety. The mesmerizing light in Halo attracted the dark abyss in Dusk. Both of them knew that Halo was going to follow Dusk on his sinister journey, whether he was willing or not.

Glacier watched the female come out of the clearing. He stalked her, skillfully hidden in the darkness. She had an ancient book in her arms, but he knew it was not the one that he was required to obtain. He needed a certain Book of the Dead. It was the only way to ressurect The God; the book and the chalice.

In all six hundred years of his life, Glacier had hunted for the ancient rune. He had found the Egyptian Book of the Dead and the Tibetan Book of the Dead, but the Aztec Book of the Dead still remained a mystery. He was glad that he did not get assigned the task of finding the Chalice of Immortality. That impossible mission was given to Requiem.

He walked through the icy park, following the dark female. He shielded his aura from her and continued stalking her. He wanted to know what she was looking for in that ancient leatherbound book. He willed himself to become immobile as she sat down on the root of an elderly withered oak tree and opened the book and started to read. Glacier had stopped breathing. He willed his pulse to stop and the blood in his preternatural veins to cease from flowing.

Glacier moved closer to her and peered over her shoulder. She was looking at a random page halfway through the book. It was a detailed and exquisitely drawn sketch of the Chalice of Immortality. "How interesting," he thought as he attempted to decipher the foreign langauge that was in it. He had a very isolated childhood, learning only to comprehend two langauges, English and Norwegian. The langauge in the book fascinated him greatly with the perfectly written out words and the accents. Glacier was enthralled with the mysterious langauge.

The female turned around, but Glacier had already dematerialized. He took form some few feet away from her. He remained emotionless as he watched her look around, petrified and shaking. Glacier watched her, taking in her every move, knowing that he would not hesitate to slit her throat if she happened to discover him. He could not have anyone, whether Immortal or Mortal, could ever find out about him. He could not afford having anybody see his face and live to tell about it. He grabbed the dagger from its holster and disappeared again.

_Forgive me._

Noir looked up at the Human he was with and smirked evilly. The Mortal was so consumed with pleasure that he did not even feel the tiger-like fangs hit the carotid artery. Noir drank greedily, savoring the deliciously hot stream of crimson liquid flowing into the back of his throat. The male went limp in Noir's muscular arms, but he kept drinking the red ambrosia. When the heart ceased to beat, Noir threw the lifeless body to the ground sadistically. The sickening crack of the bones was audible as the body broke into a gruesome splattering of blood, bone, and skin.

"Sorry, Lover," Noir grinned. "I couldn't resist."

He got up then and put on his typical outfit of black lace and leather. His long black hair was tied up with a strip of red silk. Noir walked out of the French style plantation house gracefully. His pale ivory skin clashed with the starry dark purple sky. He was lost in his thoughts about how beautiful the night was when he had heard a distant scream; a woman.

He followed the sound. It had led him to an immense park. He dematerialized then appeared a few feet away from the scene and watched. An unknown, yet Ancient, male had a female on the ground, a silver dagger aimed right at her heart. He knew the female; she was an old lover of his. He did not remember her name, nor did he care. He watched emotionlessly as the Ancient male stabbed her in the heart and then got up. The male looked up at the sky. Noir imitated his actions and saw that there was only about ten more minutes before sunrise. The other Immortal vanished, leaving the woman on the ground bleeding, mentally pleading for salvation.

_Sorry_, Noir thought, not attempting to hide his thoughts from her. _I never loved you. You disgust me. _

The female was so weak, she did not have the strength to cry out to Noir as Noir turned around and walked away, without hesitating to look back. He dematerialized and appeared in the old French style mansion that he had brought his victims to. He walked to the bedroom, blocking out the screams of the Humans he had inprisoned in the immense basement as he passed by the crevice leading to that morbid torture chamber. Noir knew that he was twisted, knew it and took pride in it. He was not going to lie to himself or to anyone else about what he was and the price he had to pay to be alive. He just took off his clothes and got into the king-sized bed, completely covered with black silk sheets and blankets and expensive red pillows. He continued to think about how many people he had decieved, tortured, murdered, even going as far as to transform them into the demon that he was just for the sole purpose of hurting them over and over again relentlessly.

It was like that with that woman he had just seen murdered and did nothing to stop. He had an affair with her in the 1600s. It was fun for him to corrupt a sweet, innocent Aristocrat, turn her over to the Demonic Side, then abandoned her. It gave him a sadistic pleasure doing that. He seduced her, made her believe that she loved him, took away her innocence, and then her Mortality, and then watched her die.

_Noir watched her in the ballroom masquarade, dressed so beautifully in shimmering gold. He watched the way she moved with her husband, one of the King's advisors. He always watched her as she watched him, her almond eyes looking him up and down, a look of lust in her eyes. He caught the images in her mind, the pictures of the forbidden things she wanted him to do to her. He grinned when he caught, from her thoughts, that she was a virgin. He knew that he could make his move...but he also knew that she was a tease. She had played this game with countless other men, none of which had been able to get her in their beds. Well, he was not just any male. He knew how to play the game too, better than she could ever know._

Noir opened his eyes quickly, blocking out the images of the first time he had met her. He did not want to think about that. She was a slut right from the beginning; a slut, a con-artist, and a liar. He had hated her, from the very beginning. It was purely the fact that he had wanted something different. He wanted the chase, longed for the chase. He knew that he could get to her eventually, and he loved watching the innocent act that she pulled whenever she was with any male, even him. She would act so innocent, pure, and virtuous, but Noir knew the truth. After he had turned her, he fled, going to his real lover, the only person he had really cared about.

_Isn't it such a shame that I wasn't the one to kill the slut. Or I could've watched as Dusk killed her. He would've done an excellent job at it too. _With that last thought, he closed his eyes and let sleep take him. He dreamed about Amethyst being burnt to a cinder as the sun rose up on her exposed body.


End file.
